Centralia
by mochiloch
Summary: Everything happens for a reason. What do you get when you're a successful author of two bestselling novels and a teacher with a psychology degree? Find outCherylHenry, HenryEileen, even a little JamesHenry Notice how everyone wants Henry lol
1. Successfully normal

A/N: This is my frst SH fic, and I think I'm gonna have some fun with this one (he he he...) WARNING: this chapter will most likely be the most boring of them all; because I've gotta get this baby off the ground. So, sit back and enjoy! (I hope...)

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"God dammit!"

The machine had met the force of her steel-toed boot, but still no effect. The cold bastard was taunting her, that's what it was.

"Ms. Mason." She heard, and John walked past her to the side of the soda dispenser. John was one of her students, a senior, and had been the most helpful so far. Then again, she'd only been a teacher for two weeks, so she was still a "noobi".

He hit the thing on the side, in a specific spot it appeared, and, sure enough, the bottle fell out of the port. "Thanks" she said, twisting the top. She looked inside the cap. "Damn. I never win." she said, taking a long swig.

"Actually, Ms. Mason, I kinda had a question." he said, as the two began walking to her classroom. Honestly, she it was too early for her to be thinking, but she figured she owed it to him.

"Well, you know The Stomp's in two weeks. And, um..."

"Oh god, please don't tell me you're asking me!" she joked. He smiled, and continued walking. "No, actually I was kinda here to ask a favor."

She looked up to him, and had already figured out what he wanted. Highschoolers were so easy to read these days...

"Kylie Clark. Yes, I'll partner you two up for the Psychoanalysis report." she laughed. He nodded, and slightly blushed. "Well, don't act so surprised. It's not like every time you drool over the girl you're invisible. I notice." she laughed. The bell rang, and the hallways became a bustling super-highway.

"Thanks Ms. Mason!" he said as he ran off. She shook her head, and squeezed her way into her room. She really wished everyone would stop calling her 'Ms. Mason'. It sounded too old, and she was only 24. She told them to call her Cheryl, but they all stuck to Ms. Mason.

She waltzed into the small room, and set her bag upon the desk. She glanced around, seeing only a few people in their seats, the rest un-arrived.

She turned, and began writing on the white board. It was enigmatic to herself how, or even why, she had fallen into the field of Psychology. What disturbed her even more was that she had become a teacher, and just to take it a step further, she enjoyed it.

She heard the bell, a loud "beep" that seemed to go on forever. Annoying it was, but she focused on the class. Everyone was there, on time, which seemed to be the norm. she heard other teachers bitch about how their students always "sluffed".

When she first came to teach at South Ashfield High, she was completely unaware of what "sluff" was. She soon found out that it was their word for skip - an odd choice. So, long story short, no sluffing, as she had become accustomed to, had occurred in her class yet. She figured the guys liked looking at her figure in low-rise jeans, and the girls found her ideally liberating.

"All right you little bastards." she began. There was a wave of laughter throughout the room, and she smiled. "We are discussing dogmatic convictions, and how its affected the world around us, whether it be on a subconscious level or not."

"So, anybody have any suggestions?" she asked. No hands, though that was no surprise. She turned, marker in hand, and began to write on the board.

"How about Art? Music? Movies and the Cinematic area?" she said aloud as she began writing the topics down. "Or even modern literature, which on that note, you'll be happy to know that my book was accepted and is being launched for publishment in November." she said. There was a small applaud, and she bowed, mocking the "Oscar acceptance" speech, wiping an invisible tear from her eyes.

"Ms. Mason?"

She looked up and saw a single hand in the air. "Yeah?" she replied. The person stood, a young Girl. She had long blonde hair, pale blue eyes, terribly thin. Cheryl spaced off for a few seconds, pondering about how she did miss being a blonde these days.

"This is your second fictional novel, isn't?" she asked. Cheryl shrugged, and nodded in agreement to the girl. "Is it a sequel of Harry's story, or is it something new?"

Cheryl stood, and paced. She was surprised any of them had actually read the book, but horror novels do sell well these days. "Well, actually, it _is_ a sequel, but not in the traditional fashion." she said.

"How many of you have actually read it?" she asked. She figured most hadn't, so she'd explain. However, she looked around to see every hand in the air. "Oh?"

"Well, of course everybody's read it! Didn't you know? Your book is third place in the country's top ten horror novels - it's been nominated three times for the Kleinburg award. It's a cult classic. It's original, it's chilling, it's..." the girl, Natasha, continued, "a masterpiece." Cheryl knew it was doing well with all the money coming in, but she didn't know so many people loved it.

"Thank you Natasha, that was...interesting input. Anyway, this next one's Heather's story." she said. She was a little concerned about the girl's apparent obsession. They all began mumbling, asking her what it's about, if some people are going to be in it, or coming back. Cheryl raised a hand, and they fell silent.

"You'll just have to wait for it to be published." she said. She hadn't expected the extreme success of the novel, but it was easy to write, because it's easy when you've lived it. But the fact that she had so many fans was sort of the highlight of her morning.

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"Yo!" she called out. He looked around, and saw her waiting. Backing up the car, he stopped for her to hop in.

"How's it goin' Uncle Henry?" she said, throwing her bag in the back seat. He shook his head. "Would it kill you to just call me Henry for once? Uncle just makes it sound...old. I'm only 25 - I have a life!" he said. She rolled her eyes, and went back to the book she was holding.

He pulled out of the school parking lot, and into the midday traffic. He glance to the book, and read the title. SILENT HILL.

"You're still reading that?" he said. She glared at him, and then back to the book. "I happen to be reading it again. I always read books through twice." she said. He kept his eyes on the road, and sighed.

"Why don't you read something contemporary?"

"Since when did you become such a tool?" she said. Kylie did have his sister in her, unfortunately. And to think, he was dealing with her for the weekend.

It wasn't the book he had anything against, just that every time he heard the damn name it brought back this little twinge of "Nostalgia". He'd rather not think about all the crazy shit he went through.

"Besides. Don't knock her just because she's got some fame. I mean, she's got a psychology degree, she's an active teacher, she's got the sequel coming out this fall, _and _director Christophe Gans wants to make a movie out of it."

"What is she, your 'Idol'?" he laughed. She crossed her arms, book still in hand, and spat out "As a matter of fact, she is."

Henry didn't mean to, but somehow he always came off as aggressive to Kylie, while more or less, passive to everyone else. He fell silent for a few minutes, but finally, yet sheepishly, replied "Sorry." She said nothing, but continued to stare out of her window.

"By the way, mom said you've got to go to my Parent/Teacher conferences tonight." she said. Henry groaned. He was tired as hell, for he hadn't had a blink of sleep for the past twenty-hours, and now he had to go to this thing. "What time is it?" he sighed in question.

"7:00" she replied. He shook his head. This was the worst weekend her mom decided to drop her off on him. But, he happened to be lucky that she was easy to keep occupied.

"So you still seeing that...lady?" she said. He glanced over. "Eileen. No, I'm not." he said. She shifted in her seat.

"Good, because she was a real..." she began, but faded off. It was true. After what happened to the two, he thought they'd be closer. But, she changed. She was...truly crazy. She had to be committed, and they said she was cured. Then she moved in with him, and...long story short, a suicide jump isn't a pretty sight.

Arriving, Kylie looked at the small house. It was a very small house, this was true, but it was a hell of a lot better than that dump he lived in a year ago. Kylie had gone to the front door, waiting for him to unlock it. He gathered her bag out of the back seat, and strode to the front door.

Having unlocked the front door, the 16 year old girl pushed past him and into the living room, where she plopped down on the couch, and flipped on the T.V. Henry took her bag into her room. She had her own room there because her mother passed her off on him more than she should have.

He sluggishly made his way to the kitchen and took a glass from the right cabinet above the faucet. "I'm gonna go lay down. Wake me up at 6." he called out. She called back something incoherent, and he drank the glass of water he'd just poured. True, three hours wasn't much, but it was something, right?

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Exhaustion. That's what it all was. She was putting up with far too much. She was 24, and she was dealing more than she should have.

She needed to get away, that's what. She just needed an escape. Maybe she just needed to get laid? She definitely didn't have time for romance...

Suddenly Cheryl's phone rang. She pulled the cell phone out of her jeans, and sighed. It was James. She answered and listened. "Hello?" she asked.

"Yeah, Cheryl? This is James Sunderland - Your publicist." he said. She rolled her eyes. "James, I know you're my publicist. You published my first book, we've talked numerous times, I know." she laughed.

"Right, sorry...Listen. The demand for this second book is out of hand. The country wants it out now, and I'm getting it all shoved at me. I mean, your first book outsold any of Stephen King's books, and this one might just out do the Harry Potter series combined."

She felt a little 'special', if that was the word, hearing about her success. "So what's the problem?" she asked, stretching out on her European King-sized bed.

"Well, I was wondering if you minded me bumping the date a little forward." he said. She raised her brow and asked "How much sooner are we talking about?" she asked. "Like, "tomorrow" soon." he said. She sat up.

"Of course not. That's even better." she said. She was beginning to feel a little giddy. Never did she expect to be so famous so young.

"Also, you're wanted for a few T.V. spots. Nothing _big_, just A Current Affair, Regis & Kelly, Oprah, etc." he said. "Well, I'll call you later this evening for the details..." he said. She was about to say goodbye, but heard him hang up.

She rolled onto her side, and looked out of the window. She had everything she could want. She had a huge house on the high-rise of the city, money, friends, and a normal life - something she'd never had before.

She stood up and glanced at the clock. It was a fifteen 'til seven, and she figured she'd better head down to the school. She didn't think the parents would approve of her attire, but she could care less.

She walked through the house, grabbing her keys off of the kitchen counter as she went on her way.

Okay, so she figured meeting the parents of her students would be harder, but they were nice and casual to her. Civil was the word, but every last one of them went on about how their child was "so smart" and slightly ahead of the rest.

Then she saw Natasha with a tall woman, about as pale as her. "Mom, this is my teacher, Cheryl Mason." she said. They both sat down in the two seats provided. "My mom's somewhat of a fan of yours." she said.

"It is an honor, Ms. Mason." she said, taking her hand. The woman seemed to look creepy, but looked somewhat familiar. "So you enjoyed the book, I take it?" Cheryl asked.

"Yes. It was very insightful, and what Dahlia did to that poor girl." she said. Cheryl smiled. "Well, the second book is actually hitting shelves tomorrow - I just found out myself today." she told the woman. "My name is Joanne."

"Joanne Stephens, I'm assuming. Natasha is a wonderful student." Cheryl said. The woman sat back. "Oh, no. My daughter's last name is Stephen's after her father. But I have kept my maiden name. So just call me Joanne." she said, smiling.

"Well, I have other parents waiting, but it was very nice to meet you." Cheryl said. The woman then gained her attention once more. "Could I ask you to sign this?" she asked. She pulled out a copy of her book, a hard back edition. Cheryl nodded, and quickly signed her signature.

"Thank you so much." Joanne said before leaving.

Cheryl looked down to her list of students, and checked Natasha's off. She then glanced up, and saw the last thing she expected.

All of the other fathers so far were at least mid thirties to early forties. However, the man before her, sitting in the plastic chair, was quite a manner of spectacle. He had brown hair, parted to the side, and hazel eyes to die for.

He wore a light blue button shirt, and jeans that really seemed to be working for him. She admitted now that it had been far too long since she'd had a man, and he would be on her list of things to do if you catch her drift.

"Ms. Mason?" Kylie said. She snapped to, and smiled. "Sorry, just a few things on my mind." she said, holding out her arm. "Cheryl." she said. He took her hand, which she noticed he had strong hands, and shook hers lightly. "Henry. Uh- Townsend, I'm Kylie's Uncle. My sister couldn't make it tonight, and she's staying with me for the weekend."

"Oh, no, that's perfectly fine. I had hoped that she would bring someone, because there is something I'd like to discuss with the both of you here." she said. Kylie sat, looking a little bored, or nervous, Cheryl couldn't determine.

"The semester just started, so this isn't much of a concern if it doesn't continue, but Kylie doesn't seem to be participating when we're doing "in class" work. She seems to get bored easily, and when she turns in her homework, it's always at least an A- or higher.

"Now, we've completed a total of seven assignments, three were home and four were group work.." she said. Henry seemed to be glancing to the girl, who was looking away.

"I'm sorry, I really am. She's a good kid, but...I don't know what we can do about in school stuff." he said. Cheryl like the slight five o'clock shadow he had going on. It was slightly rugged, but just subtle enough. However, she had to stay focused.

"I was thinking she could join an after school program - something a little more 'social'."

"Well, I'll talk to her about it tonight. What do you think about it Kylie?" he said. She seemed to be focused on something, and then returned to the current situation. "What? I'm sorry, I didn't catch that..." she said.

Cheryl turned in her seat, and caught what Kylie had been starring at. It all made since now, and she knew why Kylie was acting so reclusive. "Ms. Mason?" She heard Henry say.

"I sorry." she said turning to face him. "Call me Cheryl - could you give us a moment alone?" she asked him. He shrugged, and stood. He walked off, or more or less wandered out of her room.

"You wouldn't happen to be doing so poorly because of John Kaufmann, would it?" she smiled. Kylie avoided eye contact. Cheryl tried not to laugh. High school kids were a kick, but she composed herself. "Look..."

"Why don't I partner you up with John on the Psychoanalysis project?" she said. Kylie looked at her teacher. "You're serious? You'd do that?" she asked. Cheryl raised her brow.

"What's wrong? You look, for lack of a better word, mortified." she said. Kylie sat straight up and stared. "It's just that I've never had a teacher so understanding. You're pretty...cool." she said. She stood, and straightened her clothes.

"By the way, my uncle's single." she said. "Don't think I didn't notice you checking him out." she laughed as she walked out. Cheryl blushed. She hadn't realized it was obvious, but guys were usually oblivious to flirt, so she didn't have to worry.

Three hours of flattery and autographs can really wear you down, as she soon found. What she needed was fresh air, now that she was finished. She wanted to go home, and that's what she planned on doing.

She found herself hungry, but didn't want to cook. Well, she figured that she was still driving, so she could stop somewhere. She turned into the first place she saw, a Happy Burger. She liked the one back at the mall...such fond memories of running for her life.

She stood out of her car, and shut the door. As she walked across the small lot, she saw the most pitiful car she'd ever laid eyes on. The car was blue, with one rusted door. It looked as though it was barely being held together.

Pushing the glass doors open, she saw that the place was relatively empty. She walked up to the service counter and waited.

Finally, a young teenager walked up. He looked as though he was tired, and just a little un-enthused. "Welcome to Happy Burger. Can I take your order..." he said monotonously.

"Just give me the Triple Happy Special." she said. He spoke into the small speaker, and gave her the total. She gave him a twenty, told him to keep the change. "We'll call your number when it's ready." he said.

She wandered around, until someone called her name. She turned and found a sexy stud sitting shirtless on the table, beckoning her to take her away into lust. Okay, so that wasn't true, but it was Henry and that was enough.

"Hey." He said, standing. She made her way over to the lonely table in the corner, and sat. He sat after her, and smiled. "Is Kylie here with you?" she asked. He shook his head. "Apparently she became a vegetarian, so she decided to stay home to protest liberal stuff she sees on T.V." he laughed, and she followed.

"So, never sat this close to a celebrity before." he said. She smiled, and looked out the window. "That's all Kylie seems to read anymore. I'm taking her down to the bookstore tomorrow to buy the next one."

"You sound like you didn't enjoy the read." she said. He took a drink from his soda, and looked back to her.

"Actually I haven't read it. Don't get me wrong, it's nothing against you, but...I just had a bad experience with Silent Hill about a year ago." he said. She looked down at the table. "Well, I hope it wasn't too terrible." she laughed. He remained silent, and began to reply, but then snapped his mouth shut. "You wouldn't understand..." he said.

"Try me." she challenged. He looked at her. "You'll only think I'm crazy." he replied. She laughed. "Trust me. There's nothing you can say about Silent Hill to make you sound crazy." she said.

He remained adamant about debating with himself, but finally began. "One day I woke up and my door was chained from the inside. There was a message on it that said 'don't go out! - Walter'. Well, there was also this hole in my bathroom, and every time I'd crawl through it, I'd end up somewhere near Silent Hill. There were these ghosts - murder victims, and monsters, and everyone started dying...all 'cause of this Walter Sullivan guy..." he said.

She found that none of what he said made any sense, so it must be true. He looked at her, and she seemed to be smiling. He knew he'd just blew his chances.

"That's something I'd expect to hear..." she said.

A/N: Okay, so here's the first chapter of my first SH fic! WHOOOOO! I know it may seem strange for James to be her publicist, but c'mon - they never explained what he did for a living, so I went with it. Anyway, I think Henry's a sexy bitch, and I like Heather, so I had to go with that too he he he. Well, feedback's always good (whether it be good or bad...) So now that you've got the reading part out of the way, go ahead and REVIEW! C'mon...you know you wanna...


	2. A little history lesson?

A/N; Okay, so here's the second chapter. Now, those who have reviewed so far are correct in what you brought up. However. I do need to tweak a few things to fit my story, so y'know. When you look at the picture of Ashfield heights on the wall, yes, it does say that "Mr. Sunderland's son and daughter-in-law went missing a few years back". So, sorry for all of this confusion, but give it patience, and all will be explained. An to **Saddened Soul**, I apologize that you thought I was stealing your story (he he he...)

**BOILED BROTH OF A MAN**

Early this week, in the nearby town of Brahms, 90 year old Herman C. Hershier passed away. He died while taking a bath, and wasn't found until two weeks later. The leading detective, Douglas Cartland, reported;

"He had passed away peacefully, I'll give him that. He had something similar to a kettle that kept his bath water at a certain temperature. Unfortunately, a few hours later, it had over heated, and actually set the water's temperature so high that it began to boil. Now, he'd already been dead, but his body, disturbingly enough, had been boiling for two weeks before we found him.

"Some of the men tried to pick the body out, but he poor guy was just mush by then. In total, the forensics department gathered 50 kg's of him."

A tragic end to such a fulfilled life. Herman Hershier was a gentle...

Brett put down the newspaper, and glanced up to the shadow that had now covered his table. It was a beautiful day, cloudless and blue. Ashfield was a good place to live when it was like this. The figure casting the shadow on the outside restaurant table was hers.

"Sit down Ms. Gillespie." the man said. She did as offered, and sat across from the man. He gave his full attention to her now, and stared on. "How is life for you these days, Joanne?"

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Saturday. Oh, God, Cheryl loved Saturdays. It was only the third Saturday of the school year, and it seemed like it had taken forever to come. Glancing out her window, she saw it was a thick, fog-filled day. She stretched out in her bed, and then she found that her leg had kicked something.

She slowly opened her eyes again, and glanced to her right, where sure enough, there was a body next to her. She sat up quickly, and stared at it. It was breathing, this was true, so it wasn't a dead body.

Suddenly it rolled over and looked up at her. Henry looked up at her and stretched his back. "Good morning." he said, grin on his face. Her face lost all color, and she stared back at him. "We...didn't...did we?" she asked him.

"Oh, no no no no no." he said quickly, sitting up. He looked at her. "You don't remember anything from last night?" he asked. She furrowed her eyes, and tried to remember. Everything about last night was a blank after the restaurant.

"Then...you're not gonna like this next part." he said. She looked up to his calming eyes, and waited for what he was going to say.

"Last night, your car got stolen. That's why I'm here - I gave you a ride home, but you weren't feeling well, and almost blacked out, so I brought you inside and laid you down. Then I called Kylie, and was about to tell her I was on my way home, but you asked me to stay, so...I did."

She smiled in relief. Of course the part about her car wasn't good, but the fact that he was so sweet made her f eel better about the whole situation. Then she glanced down and had to ask. "Why are you shirtless?"

He looked down and realized. "Oh! I hope you don't mind, it was just hot in here, so...I figured-"

"It's alright. It's only your chest, nothing I haven't seen before." she laughed. But she did admit that he looked better without a shirt. He actually had visible abs, which was nice eye-candy to wake up to.

"What time is it?" he asked, scratching his head. She struggled to turn and look at the clock, because she didn't want to take her eyes off of him. He was just one of those cute loyal guys who you didn't come across very often.

"11:34 a.m." she said. "I didn't think we'd sleep that late..." he said. He slid his legs of the side of the bed, and rubbed his eyes. She stood, still in yesterday's fashion, even shoes, and walked around the bed. "Stay for a while. I'll make breakfast." she called back from the hallway, and she almost tripped down the stairs from lack of attention.

As she walked into the spacious dining room, she noticed the answering machine was flashing. 2 messages, the face read. She brushed the touch-pad, and hit "play".

"Cheryl...It's James Sunderland, you publicist "Does he have to say that every time?..." Well the books have successfully been delivered, and the fans are lining up. Anyway, I was wondering if I could come over and discuss the profit sharing and distribution. Uh, you know my cell number, so give me a call."

Then it beeped, and the second message began.

"Cheryl..."

She stopped in her steps, and immediately turned around.

"Che-...eryl...Che..."

There seemed to be static interfering, but she knew that voice.

She checked the caller I.D. to see where the call had come from. As she flipped through each number, she came to it. She couldn't believe it, but there it was flashing her in the face. MY CELL.

It was from her home phone number. She pulled out her cell and checked it, and there appeared to be a message on there as well. As she listened, it was the exact same message.

"Dad?" she said to herself. Then, as she hung up, the house phone rang, and on the caller I.D. she read MY CELL once more. The cell was there in her hands. She quickly dropped the thing, and it hit the hard wood floor. Then it stopped.

The phone stopped ringing, and the cell phone stopped flashing.

"Cheryl, I sh-"

Henry stopped as he saw her. She was pale, and looked upset. He walked up to her, and took her hands in his. They were cold and trembling. "Hey...Are you okay?" he asked. He jumped, as she threw herself on him. She began crying into his shoulder, and he put his arms around her. He was lost, for just a moment ago she was fine.

She pulled away, and looked up to him, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I...I was just having a moment."

"It's okay, we all get 'em." he said. She gave an enforced laugh, which didn't sound convincing. "Henry..." she said. She took his warm hand and led him into the living room, and onto the couch. "I haven't been completely honest with you."

He gave a confused look, and stared into her eyes. They were distant, cold...yet trusting.

"When I was a little girl, my father took me to Silent Hill. A woman named Dahlia tried to summon the ancient God of the town..."

"What happened?" he asked. She fell silent. "She offered her daughter, Alessa, up as the sacrifice...and it did work. God was born...but...it died. Then the girl reappeared and gave my father a baby. Me." she said. Henry looked completely confused. "But, didn't you say that..."

"Yeah. It get's stranger. When I was seventeen, seven years ago, a woman named Claudia hired a private detective to find me. Even after we'd changed our names, and went into hiding, they still found me.

"The truth is...I'm the Holy Mother. I was supposed to give birth to God, but I was able to stop it by swallowing the Aglaophotis. She...killed my father. Claudia took God unto herself, and God lived on, but twisted - she wasn't supposed to be the birth mother. It's because Alessa's soul is mine...I'm Alessa, but I'm still me." she said. She waited for any input he may have had, but she heard nothing from him.

"So..." he said. "You did understand what I said last night, didn't you?" She nodded. "That man you mentioned...Walter Sullivan...he said he saw he Red Devil. This was before he killed himself."

Henry gave her a look. "The Red Devil?" he asked. She nodded. "I...I created it."

"You see, my publicist, he's also connected to Silent Hill. That's how we met - he sought me out, and we began talking. I had just finished my book, so it worked out. He tries to keep a certain distance from me, pretending we don't know each other well, but we stay in contact."

"He got a letter from his dead wife, and went there. He saw Xuchilbara."

"Zhuzhil-whata?" he said.

"Xuchilbara is the Red God, that I created a long time ago...back when I was God. It's also called Valtiel, or as James saw it, Pyramid Head, but they're all one and the same."

"I'm not getting it. It sounds like a bunch of that cult-stuff I found..." Henry said. She shook her head. "Look, I'll give you Silent Hill's history later, but right now, I think we should get out of here..." she said. "Some fresh air, you know?"

Henry suddenly jerked up. "Kylie!" he exclaimed. "I was supposed to take her to the bookstore." He said as he ran to the front door, slipping on his shoes, untied, and running out the front door.

"Wait!" she called after him. "I'm coming with you" she said. He nodded, and they went to the shitty-wagon, as he called it.

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"Save the formalities, Barton." she said, sitting down.

Brett Barton looked back to her. "So what's this about?" he asked her, keeping a stern look in his eyes.

"I've found her. She was naive enough to write down all of it in a novel." she said, tossing him the hard-back copy of SILENT HILL. He barely caught the heavy object. "You've found her?"

"Yes. It turns out she lives here, in South Ashfield."

"How come every time you come around, the fog rolls in?" he said. She closed her eyes, keeping her patience with him. "You know what is near."

"You know, have you ever considered the fact that your ridiculous dogma may actually be ridiculous dogma?" he said, sipping his coffee. She stood, and glared down at him. "You've turned your back on us, haven't you?"

He shrugged. "It's just better to stay un-involved. What can I say, she's pretty powerful." he said. Joanne stormed off, and he was left to think to himself how glad he was that he was done with them all. He was only their source of money, that's all.

But this Cheryl. She could cause quite an inconvenience with the convergence. He wouldn't be so concerned if they were some sect of Jehovah's Witnesses, but when these people performed a ritual, it worked, which made the situation somewhat...hazardous.

So this is what you've been reduced to? A grave? A tomb-stone? A mere memory passed over by everyone when they see you? The know not who you are...but soon all will be performed as righteously as you planned.

She brushed her hand over the grave marker, the head stone that read only a name. James Stone. But all that he had planned was coming to pass. "I only wish you were alive to see for yourself..."

Joanne stood and glanced around. These people who walked pass were ignorant fools. Boasting in their invalid success. They will know, when the time comes, about their meaningless existence.

"Oh Jimmy, why did you leave me to do this on my own?" she sighed.

"Because you were tainted." came the voice. Out of the fog, she saw her, standing there in all her malice. Joanne could say nothing, but bend to her knees and bow before the woman. "Do not offer me praise, my sister." the woman told her.

Joanne lifted her head, and gazed upon the spectacle, her lost mistress. "What vision have you brought for me?" she asked.

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"Look, I'm so sorry - I didn't mean to forget about it." Henry plead forgive, but Kylie didn't seem to be giving into his charm. She crossed her arms, and cocked her head to the side. "I'm sure they're not all sold out by now..." he said.

She scoffed. "It's not even about the book! ARGH! You're so dense sometimes..." she said, stalking off into her room. He sighed, and rubbed his temples. Suddenly, Cheryl walked into the small house by use of front door, and glanced around.

"Oh - Sorry, I forgot you were in the car." he said. She raised a distasteful look, and glared at him. "Forgot?" she said. He quickly leaped forward. "Uh-No! I didn't mean it like that! I just, uh, had some trouble with kylie..." he explained.

"I'll talk to her..." she said, walking past her. He grabbed her shoulder quickly, and she turned around. "I was wondering...about this morning...What brought it up?" he asked her. She stared off, not particular focused on anything.

"I got a call from my dad." she said. He looked back at her, still in wonder. "Who's been dead for seven years." she said. Then he seemed to look...interesting. The expression wasn't exactly anything she'd ever seen before, but he was mostly amazed she was acting so casual about it.

She turned around, and then looked. "Which room is hers?" she asked. He pointed to the door to her left. She nodded, and slowly approached.

She slowly turned the handle, and she entered the room. It was a nice room, the biggest room in the house, which was pretty gracious of Henry to do. The walls were a dark shade of purple, the ceiling black. And above the bed was the last thing she'd expected to see.

One the large space of the wall, above the bed, it was erected, staring back at her. Only this time, it didn't give her a strange feeling. The Halo of the Sun, in red paint.

"What do you want?" she said. Kylie was a little surprised that she was here, but kept her anger in full effect. "I came here to apologize." Cheryl said, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

"What did you do? It was his fault. He always does this..." she said. Cheryl stared down to the sheets. "But I asked him to stay last night, so, I take full responsibility." She heard Kylie laugh to herself. "Don't bother." she replied.

"Kylie, I only just met Henry last night, and I know he's awkward, but...He means well, he really does." she told the girl, trying to console her somehow. "My mom," she began.

"She's always trying to pass me off on someone...Henry's the only one who takes me willingly. He says he enjoys the company, but..."she faded. She suddenly felt Cheryl's hand on her shoulder. "I understand. When I was growing up, my mom was killed on a police call. She was shot and raped, and the guy was never caught. But my dad was there for me when no one else was. Henry, he kinda reminds me of him...He's a good person at heart."

Kylie looked her teacher in the eye, and saw the sincerity. She nodded. She decided shed forgive her uncle...for now at any rate.

"But all of the copies of SILENT HILL: SECT OF THE HOLY MOTHER." she exasperated, and fell back onto the bed. Cheryl looked down at the girl, and smiled. "Tell you what. I'll give the promotional first-edition copy that they gave me. It has the original cover art they were gonna keep until they thought it was too graphic."she said. Kylie shot up and smiled. "You mean it?"

Cheryl nodded, and then found herself hit hard when the girl jumped her and hugged her tightly. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" she shouted in one blur. She was happy that the girl wasn't still moping, so the fact that she couldn't breath wasn't so bad.

"Are you guys okay?" Henry rushed in. "I thought I heard something." he said, and then noticed the situation. What he thought he heard was a squeal from those double-headed-baby-things from the old days, but it must have been Kylie. He figured they were having a girl moment, which he'd never understand, nor wanted to.

"Okay, so you want to give me that history lesson yet?" he asked her. She sat down on the couch next to him, and thought. "I guess I could start from the beginning."

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"Listen everyone, listen!" she called out. She glanced around the room. Their numbers were much smaller, with the losses of so many great people, but they were still here and that's what mattered.

"The time is nearly here! I had a vision today, whilst upon the resting hill, gazing upon Father Stone's grave. White Claudia appeared before me, and told me that the convergence would be a tremendous event. She said...that my daughter Natasha was chosen by Valtiel himself to bear the Flower Crown of Poppy."

There was a murmur in the crowd, and she silenced them once more. "I take this as Lady Gillespie took her responsibilities of her daughter. Over these years, many great people sacrificed themselves for the greater good.

"Let us not forget Father George Rosten, who had raised the conjurer, or priest Toby Archibald. Or James "Jimmy" Stone, who erected the Valtiel Sect." She said. Joanne stepped down from the alter and began to pace the crowd.

"Because of Father Stone, both opposing sects, The Sect of the Holy Mother, and the Sect of the Holy Woman, were able to conjoin and become stronger." she shouted. There was an uproar from the followers, and she smiled. It was quite a sight to see. God herself would smile upon them.

"Father Stone was truly an honorable man. When those of the opposing sects scorned him, he did not reject them but accepted the name they called him. The Red Devil. He had laid the most conceivable plans to rest until the time came. And as he predicted with the sight given to him by the angels, all events he had written down had come to pass.

"He predicted Dahlia's actions, and then he had seen the Black sinner's arrival. The red hood that he donned was a symbol! In honor of God's angel, the executioner, Valtiel." she said. She listened to them all cheer, and shed a tear in its glory.

"And now, we go on to cast the sinners unto the hell they have created for themselves."

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"When the immigrants first arrived, the natives had a religion. The immigrants had begun to follow, but they had given their own Christian influences. You see, Silent Hill is a sacred place. It's the place were God fell and collapsed. Were...I fell.

"There were two opposing parts of the cult, against the each others beliefs: The Sect of the Holy Mother is where they brainwashed children. They originally built Hope house, also known as Wish House as a facade to their activities...rituals... The sect believed that The Ritual of the 21 Sacraments was to bring the descent of the Holy Mother, God. A man named...George Rosten was the head priest, and had raised Walter Sullivan to believe he was the 'conjurer'. He was so dedicated to the belief that he became Walter's sixth victim...a sacrifice...

"The Sect of the Holy Woman, or Holy One, was lead by a woman named Dahlia Gillespie. They believed that God was to be nurtured within the womb of a woman with 'special powers', in aims to give birth to God through that woman. The woman is called the Holy mother, or the Holy One. The woman, and the child, are one and the same. St. Alessa and the child..."

"So that's why Eileen was also called the Holy Mother...Walter was going to 'descend' God into her body, or something like that..." Henry said. He remained silent, and she continued.

"That's not all. A man named Jimmy Stone had started another sect. The Valtiel Sect. It was founded to provide intermediation between these two sects. They called him the Red Devil. George Rosten was also a priest of this sect."

"Yeah..." Henry said. "I looked up any articles on Walter Sullivan after what happened, and I read one about him killing himself. The report said he was shouting something about a 'Red Devil' making him do it..." he said. She remained fix on staring at nothing.

"Walter's Red Devil couldn't have been Jimmy Stone - he'd been dead by then." she told him.

"During the civil war, a prison had been built. Of course, the town had prospered in the cults, so everyone followed. The executioners wore red triangular hoods to honor Valtiel, because Valtiel is the Executioner of God. So Jimmy Stone also wore a red hood, in Valtiel's honor. This is probably why Walter Sullivan thought the Red Devil had told him to do it, because George Rosten had already put Jimmy Stone in his head. But, it was Valtiel himself who was making him do these things.

"Silent Hill has this power...it calls "sinners" and has a way of, more or less, punishing them. James' Pyramid Head is the same thing. He killed his wife, and so Valtiel was there to remind him of it by killing the image of his wife over and over."

She paused, and looked at him. He seemed to be taking it all in. "It's all a little confusing..." he said. She smiled, slightly, and nodded. "I know."

"Valtiel comes in many forms - Everyone seems to see it differently..."

"So you're saying that this Valtiel is really the cause of all of this?" he asked. She shook her head. "No...You're not getting it. He's one of the Primal Gods, an Angel, but it's only a servant."

"Then who's responsible?" he asked. He seemed to be getting a little edged, wanting to know more. "Look, it's a lot to take in for one night..." he said. "We really should sleep on it."

She looked down, and sighed. "I knew it..." she said to herself. He looked at her. "What?" she glanced back up to him, and smiled. "Nothing..."

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked her. She shook her head. "I'll be fine here, if it's okay with you..." she said. He nodded, and stood. "You can take my bed - I'll sleep on the couch." he offered. "Thanks..." she said. It was only 4:30 in the after noon, but she felt herself tired already.

"You rest up. Take as long as you need." he said. As she walked off, he found something that he hadn't felt in a while; understanding. Walking into the small kitchen, he stopped in his spot. This couldn't be. It was impossible. It just was not possible in the spans of the cosmos, and yet there he was.

"Hello Henry." came the droning voice of none other than Walter Sullivan himself.

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A/N: What will happen in the next chapter? Who knows! (Technically I do...) But anything can happen! Tune in next time for another exciting episode of...eh, just review.


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